Retirement, Day 15 (cont.)

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I sank into the silence of the house. i hadn't been alone with only my thoughts for company in centuries. Anastasia's constant presence served as a mostly welcome distraction for these many years, with countless demons coming and going in a faceless stream of company. The quiet pressed against my ears like a physical thing.

 

After perhaps two minutes of sitting on the edge of the couch, contemplating the blank television screen, I leapt to my feet. Pacing the length of the sunken living area, I thought about patrolling the perimeter just for something to do. The people in this age were soft things, not bothering with guard rotations or defensive structures or martial training. With a proper army, I could conquer the subdivision with no difficulty.

 

The sharp sting of sulfur attacked my nose. I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. For someone in charge of one of the largest bits of religious real estate, Lucifer certainly took a great many trips Above. 

 

Lucifer appeared in a swirl of smoke, red eyes blinking in the cloud. His form coalesced in stages: flowing flaxen hair, arms and chest covered by a brightly patterned shirt, hips and legs and ubiquitous cargo shorts, and finally feet clad in some kind of sandal. In one hand, he held a package typically called a 'six-pack' of bottles typically containing alcohol.

 

He stepped out of the smoke, blue eyes bright and avid. "I heard Anastasia was having a hen night," he said, voice almost brittle in its brightness. "Thought you might want some company."

 

"Hmmmm," I hummed, turning my gaze to the front yard. The hole I'd begun to dig mocked me.

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Lucifer joined me, draping his arm over my shoulders. "Come on, Vladdy. Let's get shit-faced."